


Dead by Daylight :: Season of the Witch

by MagickDream



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-08-11 03:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20146717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagickDream/pseuds/MagickDream
Summary: She knew that eventually, it would all change. That she would not be used as some token for the other survivors at some point. What Trista Sullivan had not expected was to become the Entity's little helper. Nor was she expecting to find love in the repeating hell she had been ensnared in. There had to be a way to get out, to be free of the madness and torment. Or would she even want that with the thought of leaving someone that had become dear to her behind?After all, Death is not an Escape.





	1. Chapter 1

How many trials had she been in back to back since her arrival? No rest from the hellish repetitive nightmare. No reprieve from bloodthirsty killers and self-preserving survivors. She had stopped counting after it hit triple digits. The moment her perks were revealed, she knew she was cursed. To her fellow survivors, she was a free instant heal whenever they needed it. Even though their wounds would become her burdens to bear. _**Healing Touch**_ as they all called it, became her most exploited perk, only seconded by her _**Third Eye**_. Not cursed. No. She felt she was thoroughly fucked with her unique abilities. Luckily, she found a large rock nestled in the farthest corner of MacMillan Estate that provided enough shelter for her to patch up the wounds and mull over the latest trial.

This one was proving to be one of the more challenging rounds for her three companions as evident by the gashes and marred right ankle she sported told her. They were down to two generators and those three had already been hooked twice each. Worse yet, they were up against the very beast that owns the estate they were trying to escape. Her ankle wound had been her second clue but, it was the rust bear traps littering the arena that had been the first. One such trap was armed and ready near her exit point from behind the rock. She was able to spot it right before she became victim to the metal teeth. It would serve as a distraction once she was done bandaging herself up.

With a roll of gauze between her teeth to keep the noise to a minimum, she set to work on taking care of the wounds she was littered with. Her eyes looked around to see the faint auras of Jake, Nea, and Bill each working on a generator. They were aiming to speed up the exit process but her focus was already shifted to the other in the arena. Her eyes moved to try and spot the red aura of their killer. She froze. The bastard was only meters away and was already aiming to close the distance quickly. Nope, no curse. She was most certainly, royally fucked. She could not run and, with how fast he was approaching, she would not have got far anyway. The gauze dropped out of her mouth when she stood up to face her fate with some courage, though her heart rate spoke otherwise, and that was when it finally clicked in her brain. The Trapper, as he was called by the other survivors, was about to become victim to his weapon in just mere seconds. How many trials had she faced against him? Seen him fall victim to his own traps that were meant to snare his prey? Too. Damn. Many.

"Wait!" She spoke out firmly and raised her hand to call upon the third perk that had been 'gifted' by the Entity of the realm. A light emitted from her palm the effectively blinded the massive brute. The guttural roar of anger that was elicited from him got her heart rate spiking more. Her eyesight was robbed from her just as his had been and she took a trip down memory lane. His life before the Entity claimed him played like a move in the survivor's retinas. The failed attempt at a warning became evident to her when the sound of the trap snapping rang out accompanied by the low growl of agitation from the Trapper. When her vision cleared her heart sank as she saw him knelt to the ground. The iron teeth of the contraption dug into its owner's ankle even while he was trying to recover from her little blinding trick_. __**Hand of Light **_made her palm as bright as any flashlight but, with the downside of her being blinded right along with the killer.

With a gentle sigh of defeat, she inched closer to the Trapper. Not a damn was given that she was about to help someone hell-bent on sacrificing her to their would-be deity. Her eyes focused on the trap, wondering if she would be able to get the thing detached from its owner. The logic was screaming at her that he could do it perfectly fine, that he has done it plenty of times. That was not her point though and logic flew out the window. Her eyes looked to the mask and she froze again after realizing he could see again. He was in an eye-lock with her while his hand gripped tightly on his cleaver. The very blade that had sliced into her flesh more times than she could care to recall. Hearing the last two generators pop to life in the distance did not phase either of them. Nor did the flood of the light from the nearby generator. The last survivor sighed out knowing the three she was in the trail with would leave through the exits without trying to find her. The fact that the Trapper had yet to move or free himself had her tilting her head to the side. Time for another wild hair.

"I'll cut you a deal. Let me get you out of that trap and I'll even patch up your leg too. I'm sure the Entity will be pissed about no sacrifices so, I'll let you hook me after. No-fuss. Sound good?" The shock that she had spoken was almost palpable to her. She figured this might have been the first time a survivor had talked civilly to a killer, let alone striking such a one-sided bargain. Either way, she knew she was cornered and truly screwed as the faint yellow auras of the others vanished through the now open exit gates. She was now alone with the Trapper and the Entity. The latter was at that moment howling in a full tantrum of being denied its meal. The only sign that the killed agreed to the deal was him resting his weapon against the bricked wall that kept them fenced in during the trial. With the killer now somewhat unarmed, she carefully eased forward to examine the trap while she tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear.

"Never found you," the Trapper spoke out in a gruff tone as he kept his stare leveled on her, even when she looked up at him with those bright golden-green eyes. He pointed to the largest of her wounds across her shoulder that was still bleeding and when she got what he meant, she let out a small chuckle. It stirred him a bit having someone find amusement in his words, let alone having a female survivor so close to him willingly. He kept still as he could and evened out his breath as she worked at dismantling his trap. Yes, he could have easily freed himself but, this he wanted to see play out. She had intrigued him with her little one-sided bargain. This survivor had been new and she had been an enigma not only to him but his fellow killers as well. The way she would call of a sudden be wounded without any of them touching her. How she could blind them while not having a flashlight in hand. They had all given her a nickname of their own. The Witch.

"One of my perks. You'll see in a second," she answered gently and pulled the final pin, causing the trap to open freely. She moved the trap out from under his foot and made sure all of the parts were together just to fix it later. A smile graced her lips when he rolled up the leg of his coveralls to reveal the marred bleeding ankle he now sported. She shifted a little closer and looked up to him for permission as her hands hovered close to his wound.

"Go on," he growled out, wanting to see what perk she was talking about. The quicker she got it done the quicker he would feel less crowded by her proximity too. His eyes wandered to the med-kit she had stashed behind her and he found it odd she was not going to utilize it. The warm sensation on his ankle brought his attention back to the survivor and what he saw made his eyes widened beneath the mask. Her hands were glowing with a warm red light and his wound was healing before his very eyes. It was not until she winced in pain and the light dimmed that it clicked for him. She now had the wound she just healed which instantly answered his earlier question.

"You're good as new. I'll fix your trap up and then you can put me on the meat hook," her voice was calm which was a little odd to both of them. She slid the trap close to herself before sitting down on the grass. Her fingers working diligently on putting the trap back together. The Trapper sat himself down to watch her and found it very curious that she knew the mechanics of it so well. Damn near exactly how he worked with them.

"What's your name, Witch?" The question came out hoarse and he regretted asking instantly. Why now was he so interested in her real name? Why had he even agreed to her deal? He should have just sacrificed her the second he found her. Yet, something in the back of his mind stayed his hand. Seeing her hands pause abruptly in their task and the look of hurt in her eyes got his curiosity peaking again.

"Trista," the woman finally replied and continued to work. She was not sure if it was a good thing that all of the killers would now know her name. Him calling her Witch brought back so many memories of her life before the trails. Some bad and some she was fond of. She let out a small chuckle of amusement before looking up at the Trapper's mask.

"Is that what you and the other's call me? The Witch?"

"Yes." The massive man saw the smile on her face grow more and it confused him. Had she found comfort in being called that name?

"It's kinder than what some of the survivors call me. A few of the nicer ones call me by my name but when tensions are high even they'll call me a freak," she kept her tone calm and in seconds the trap was good as new and fully functional. She carefully pushed it to the side of him before looking up at him.

"Alright, Evan. I'm ready to be hooked now."

She knew his name. His real fucking name. It made his skin bristle to hear someone other than the other killers say it. His blood boiled as he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her to the ground in a quick movement. Her heartbeat pulsated against his palm and it felt calm and steady. He got closer to her face to look in her eyes. He saw absolutely no fear. She was not afraid at all and looked like she understood and accepted her fate. He let out a low growl.

"How do you know my name?" The Trapper sneered when a small smile spread across her lips.

"My little light trick. Anytime I blind you, I too become blinded. I see your lives before the trials and that's how I learned your name. All of your names. Jeffrey is still the one who scares me the most though. I've always been afraid of clowns," she admitted out her true fear of one of his flock calmly. She felt the pressure around her throat had lessened with each word and her smile never faded. He was feeling the vibration of her talking rather than cutting off her air supply. The deep chuckle he let out made her eyes widen in awe. She could almost feel the full vibration from his chest with how close their bodies were.

"Hawk is weird. None of us keep company with him long," Evan admitted out before he looked up toward the fence. The howling had abruptly stopped which had him instantly on edge. Usually, by now the Entity was furious with him if there had been no sacrifice. The silence was unsettling at best. Trista had noted the silence as well and bit her lip nervously as the fog began to thicken around them.

"What's happening?" She watched as he released her and retrieved his weapon he had placed against the wall. It was at that moment that she sat up so she could repack her med-kit which was still open and strewn about behind her. Once it was all together, she hugged it against her chest like an anchor as that same fog cut off her vision of the estate in the distance.

"The trial has ended. Stay close to me," Evan grumbled out, not liking the sudden change in the rules. He was familiar with that fog taking him back to the realm that he shared with the other killers. He did have his own cabin that sat close to the mirror of his old estate, one he had built out of spite. He stayed there just so he would not have to stay in the empty shell of memories. Evan looked to his side that he did not carry his cleaver on and saw Trista was close but not too close to him. Her eyes had a look of curiosity and absolutely no trace of fear. He knew that was sure to change real soon.

Off in the distance, he could see the flickering of the campfire that the survivors stayed around. A place he and the others were not allowed to venture outside of the trials just as the survivors could only venture so close to where the killers resided. Loud cheering and laughter were coming from the campfire. No doubt most of the survivors made it out of their trials victorious. Evan did not lead Trista in that direction as it was not what the voice of the Entity had instructed him to do. Instead, he trudged farther into the woods, making sure she stayed by his side the entire time. It was not until she started looking around frantically that he paused in his steps.

"What is it saying?" He knew that look all too well. It was an expression most killers had when they first heard the Entity whispering to them. It was one he had as well, long ago, but hers lacked the rage he had felt at the time.

"I can't tell for sure. Something about new purpose?" Trista frowned, not liking that her mind was being invaded with the Entity's whispered words. It was only enough to put her on edge and felt like she had thousands of spiders skittering along her brain. Her eyes widened when she felt a hand on top of her head. The unpleasant sensation subsided as she glanced up at the Trapper.

"Your days as a survivor are over. Don't think you're going to be made a killer though," he told her in his own rough words what the Entity had said to him. The rules of the whole game were being changed. The killers had become relaxed, even the more ruthless ones, and sacrifices were becoming too few. It had been made even more so with Trista as the newest survivor. Her perks had been proven to be too advantageous. She had become a token for the other survivors and made it more difficult for any of them to get caught and hooked. The Entity had become fully away of this and was simply leveling the playing field. She was going to be doing something else now and what that entitled, none of them knew.

"Well, fuck me," Trista sighed out and grabbed the handle of the medkit to properly carry it rather than hugging it. She cracked a smile when Evan chuckled a little at her curse. It made her realize she was enjoying this less bloodthirsty side of him.

"So, do the others know what's been changed or am I going to be a surprise?"

"They know," he spoke a little softer as he removed his hand from the top of her head before continuing on his path. The massive manor that housed them all came into view and he readied himself just in case her sudden appearance was still an issue. He could easily name off the ones that would try and harm her out of spit and only a few that would back him up on keeping her protected. As they neared the manor, he spotted Max tending to the small garden he had been rewarded. Just behind him was Philip, ever the guardian for the near child-like Hillbilly. The Wraith had seen Evan emerge from the forest and his eyes brightened more seeing the Witch walking next to him. He motioned for the two over, not wanting them to venture into the shared housing yet.

"Wait for the anger to die down a moment," Philip's voice was soft and gentle like a whisper, something Trista never would have imagined. Max took the time to finish pruning one of the delicate flowers before looking towards the two that Wraith had been talking to. Seeing the newest arrival, he stood up and wiped his hands clean of the soil onto his pants legs. He saw all of the woman's wounds and immediately he gave a deep growl of disapproval toward Evan.

"It wasn't me, now back off," the Trapper growled back and squared up to the guy that was trying to challenge him. Philip sighed out having well versed with a lot of the pissing contests and rather than get involved or break this one up, he decided it was best to let it be this go around.

"Do you need help with the bandages?" Wraith gently offered the all too quiet female. When she looked at him, he braced for harsh words or angered glares. He was not prepared to receive a genuine gentle smile.

"I think I can get to them myself. Thanks for the offer though, Philip." Trista carefully sat herself down on the grass, all but ready to wrap up all of her wounds before her impending meeting. She missed that Philip was staring at her with a slack jaw of surprise or that her voice had calmed the Hillbilly down instantly.

"How'd she know his name?" Max looked to Evan who gave a small growl of annoyance.

"Her light trick lets her see our past. She knows all of our names," Evan explained plainly as he focused his attention back on Trista again.

"Well then, the Witch seems to be a suitable nickname," the Wraith mused and even smirked when the woman chuckled at his words. She had already removed her boot and was cleaning up the blood but her eyes were looking up at him. He noted how, with just the right lighting, her eyes seemed to glow with a pretty golden hue.

"It's closer to the truth from my past. I was sort of a witch in the religious sense so, you guys nailed it with that one. My name is Trista Sullivan but, if you're more comfortable calling me the Witch then I won't mind it." She started up the wrapping process on her ankle and the nervousness she had of making a bad first impression eased quite a bit. She had three down and only twelve more to go. Mainly twelve since she had never figured out that one was four but, that will be saved for later. She paused in her motions when the Hillbilly sat in front of her to watch her hands work.

"How'd ya get hurt if Evan didn't get ya?" Max, his voice coming out deep but rattled, titled his head a little to show how confused he was still. He had remembered in some of his trials with her that she would go from unmarred to limping toward the exit without him ever having touched her.

"It's easier if I show you," Trista looked up to Evan with her words and could almost hear his eyes roll. She watched as he quickly drug his cleaver over the top of his arm before he knelt beside her. With the fresh cut bleeding, she placed her hands above the wound and began healing it the same way she had healed his ankle. She did not flinch as the gash disappeared from Trapper's arm and appeared on her own.

"That explains everything now," the Wraith spoke out, completely impressed with what he just witness. He now had his answers to the questionable events during his trials with her.

"Now you understand two of my perks. The third, I was so graciously given, allows me to permanently see auras. I can see both survivors and killers at a distance which means I can see you hiding behind that tree, Amanda." Trista glance toward the very tree she had mentioned and kept her smirk down as the Pig emerged from behind it.

"Interesting," the woman's voice sounded muffled beneath her mask as she approached the small group. She had just finished her trial as made evident by the gore that covered her from head to toe. It had yet to be vanished by the Entity just yet but she was not minding it. She had been a bit surprised to see the survivor turned neutral already there and getting acquainted. The Pig, like all the others, had already heard the Entity's decision on the matter and it pushed her to end the trial more quickly. The Ebony Memento Mori, she had been rewarded previously, greatly helped in that.

"So, the little Witch is now neutral and gets to stay with us."

"Seems that way. I'm still not sure of the details or what it means but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough." Trista finished all of her patchworks on her wounds and was about to pack everything back up in the med-kit when a hand grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"You missed the one on your back. Lift your shirt and you boys turn around," Amanda looked to the three males that quickly did what she told them. Satisfied they were not going to peak, she grabbed out what she needed from the kit. Her eyes admired the gash that marred Trista's back. It covered from the top of the woman's right shoulder down to her left hip. It was going to be one hell of a scar.

"Who did you take this little love slash from?"

"Nea, the one that wears the beanie," Trista answered, unsure if the killers knew the survivors well enough for names. Descriptors would have to do until she was told otherwise.

"Idiot stayed on the generator even while I was right behind her. They're getting ballsy," Evan grumbled out and Trista let out a chuckle with his little quip.

"That would be my doing. When I'm with a group they feel invincible and tend to grow a pair. I tried to warn them but too late now," she shrugged her good shoulder before letting out a small hiss of pain. Amanda had stabbed her accidentally with the needle in the wrong place when she had shrugged.

"Keep still, little Witch, or you'll end up with more holes," Amanda had a stern yet teasing tone as she refocused on stitching up the large wound. Her little statement earned chuckles from the males while Trista's cheeks warmed up in a blush of embarrassment. Already the former survivor was beginning to feel more at home.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment to meet all the rest of the killers had come at last and Trista would have been a fool not to feel a little fear. She could feel her heart in her throat as she followed the four she had already warmed up to, Amanda led the way with Philip and Max right behind her. Evan was keeping behind Trista to intervene quickly if things went south. Trista swallowed hard as she went through the doorway and into the foyer. The grand staircase that leads up to the floors above caught her complete attention. She wanted nothing more than to marvel at the beautiful architecture but, Evan was already ushering her by her shoulders toward the massive living room at the right of the foyer. She swallowed back the small squeak of fright that tried to escape when her eyes instantly saw the Shape standing near the window. Her feet froze and her body refused to budge when he turned to face her. She felt the color drain from her face when she caught a glimpse of the bloody chef's knife he was gripping tightly. The groan of discomfort from her left caught her attention and she looked away from Michael toward the couch. The Huntress was holding on her right side that had a nasty looking gash in it. It was still bleeding and the pieces clicked into place. There had been a fight just before Trista's arrival and blows had been dealt hard.

“Did you get it all out, Mikey?” Amanda spoke in a tone of exasperated disapproval and Michael merely hugged out before turning back to the window, his gaze locked on the forest again. Trista decided to swallow her fears and get closer to the mountain woman. It was only when the woman growled at her did she pause with her hands up.

“Easy, Ana. Let her fix it,” the Wraith whispered out and took a seat on the couch to the Huntress's left. His presence seemed to ease the Huntress who let out a growled sigh.

"Поступай осторожно, маленькая ведьма," Ana spoke calmly in her native tongue, not caring if the former survivor could understand her or not. She watched as the woman sat next to her and held her hands over the wound. The red light and warmth emanating from the palms made Ana's eyes widen beneath her rabbit mask but it was the blood that began soaking through on the same side of the Witch that shocked her.

"I'll be sure to give you all as much space as you need. Tread carefully, like you said," Trista spoke calmly and moved her hands away when the wound and the clothing were mended. She let a smile grace her lips when the Huntress looked at where her wound should have been to Trista's face, most definitely in disbelief. It was so hard to read some of their expressions behind the masks and she did not know if eventually, the masks would come off around her. Was that something she wanted? Perhaps it was but, her thoughts were abruptly snapped back to the reality she was in. In her mind wandering, she had missed hearing the heavy footsteps and the rough yanking up of her shirt to her ribs. She fucking froze.

Trista could only hear her blood pounding in her ears. The muffled sounds of growling she could barely tell were coming from the ones she had sort of befriended already. They were none too pleased with what was going on. Michael had crossed the room in a matter of seconds and was the one exposing the gash. Trista could feel the agitation coming off of him in waves but the soft almost inaudible grumble he let out gave her pause. She watched, still not moving, as he held his other hand toward Amanda, who still had the med-kit Trista arrived with. The small detail of the Shape no longer holding his knife was the only reason the heart-rate calmed a bit. Silence filled the room as everyone realized what he wanted to do and the Pig handed over the small red box. All Trista could do was hold her shirt up when he silently commanded while he rummaged through the med-kit for what he needed. She tensed up with a small hiss as he started with the anti-septic cleaning. He did not pause in his motions or change his tactics and she knew damn good and well she was not getting an apology for the slight discomfort. He was focused and determined and the fact he was going to patch up the wound meant for the Huntress was good as any sorry she would hear.

The sudden appearance of a bottle next to her peripheral caught her full attention next. The gloved hand made her instantly become afraid all over again. She knew damn good and well who's hand it was and yet, she still loved over to the back of the couch. Instant regret and a whole new wave of terror filled her as the very killer she was truly terrified of was standing inches away from her. It somehow registered in her panicked mind that he was turned away from her. His face was not even reaching her view.

“Take a swig, girlie. It'll stop the pain a bit,” the gruff voice spoke out with a slight wheeze to it. The sound was something she was used to but it still unnerved her hearing it. Carefully she took the bottle with her left hand while keeping her shirt up with her right. When he felt the bottle leave his hand, the Clown spared her a glance. He could not help the laugh as saw her sniffing at the lip of the bottle.

"It ain't poisoned. Just well-aged whiskey, that's all."

“Ah, sorry. I'm used to some of the other survivors playing horrible tricks with the supplies,” Trista offered that little insight of their victims before she took a big mouthful of the liquid. She closed her eyes to enjoy the warmth that traveled down her throat and pooled in her belly. It had been so long since she had alcohol and found how much she missed it since being spirited away by the Entity. She offered the bottle back to the large man but when he pushed it back toward her gently, her eyes widened. She looked up at him and was a bit taken aback seeing him smirking at her. It was like he knew what she was just thinking.

"Ya need it more than I do. Enjoy." The Clown gave her a slight pat on her head before he made his way out of the living room. The encounter was odd to her, to say the least, but her attention was brought back to the wound that was being stitched up. As the Shape started stabbing the needle into her skin, she took another pull from the bottle. She moved her attention to Evan who was standing beside her at the arms of the couch. No doubt, he was keeping a close eye on the man that was playing healer at that moment.

"So far, not so bad. I thought by now one of you would try and outright kill me," she tried her hand at a joke but even to her, it sounded uneasy. She had believed that by now the Entity would have healed all her wounds just like it did anytime the trials had ended. Was it all a ploy? A plot to get the killers to warm up to her faster? Ana's chuckle made Trista snap from her thoughts and she looked at her.

"Herman hates you. Light hands are painful," Ana spoke in her choppy English, having made it a point to speak in the foreign language as much as she could to get better at it. There was no helping the Russian accent and Trista hoped she would never lose it. It was alluring to her just like all of the other accents she heard.

“The Doctor.” Trista mulled over the many times she had blinded him and the fact he could not blink, because of the head contraption, no doubt made it ten times worse. She nervously chewed her bottom lip, now regretting having to use that damn perk. Tears began to well up in her eyes and she quickly took another swig from the bottle to try and reign in her emotions. It had been a long time since she shed tears in front of anyone and she was not about to start now.

"That's a fucking first. Someone teary about somethin' they did to a damn monster," Freddy's voice echoed in her head and she felt an unseen hand wipe at one of the stray tears that refused to stay put. He made himself visible to them all, having kept himself hidden long enough. He had found amusement in Ana's rage-filled declaration of slaughtering the new neutral survivor. It was even more hilarious to him to watch Michael fly off the handle at her words and nearly gut the woman in the shared living room. Freddy enjoyed every second of his private viewing of the sitcom surrounding him but even he was getting bored with not being a character in the script. Welcome to prime-time with Freddy, bitches.

“I'm sure it's a first and it probably won't be the last. I hate the perks I was given but there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.” Trista looked down as the gauze pads were being taped against her skin. A small blush tinged her cheeks when she realized how careful Michael was being. He did not want to break the threads of the stitches he had sewn in.

_**“Your perks are necessary. You will embrace the name they gave you and you will assist me with the trials,”**_ Trista frowned at hearing the Entity speaking in her mind with a more discernible voice. The spider tendril sensation was still unwelcome but she could understand it more clearly. Perhaps it was because she was no longer considered a survivor. Either way, the thought of helping the monstrous deity that had ensnared them all made her stomach churn. She quickly polished off the bottle of liquor and adjusted her shirt into place when Michael moved back from her. She looked to the window and could faintly see the glow of the campfire deep in the woods. She could bet by now the survivors were all enjoying each other's company and swapping stories of their most recent trials. A part of her was curious if they had noticed she was still missing. Another part was wanting to have the closure in telling them of her role swap.

“Do you miss them, little witch?” Amanda spoke in a near cheerful tone and the woman she questions merely shook her head.

"No. A lot of them weren't exactly a warm bunch, to begin with. They usually treated me like a free med-kit or a quick distraction. A scapegoat. I do want to get the few things I earned from my trials. Maybe see the looks on their faces when they realize I won't be their token anymore," Trista smirked dryly at her words as an image of the horror and shock filled expressions came to her mind. Their little streak of easily winning was over and she wanted to be the one that slapped them in the face with it.

“I'd pay to see the looks on their face,” Freddy nearly purred and looked to the group with a grin. Trista felt a wicked grin of her own play on her lips before she slowly stood up from the couch.

“Well then, whoever wants to help me deliver the good news is more than welcome to,” she spoke out invitingly as she set the empty bottle on the table right next to the med-kit. The liquid courage she had going was more than enough incentive for her. It excited her to no end knowing that she would get the final cruel words in and even a victory of her own.

* * *

“Trista should have been back by now,” Claudette spoke with a tone of worry as she shifted on the log she shared with Dwight and Meg. Her eyes full of panic as she stared into the campfire, picturing all sorts of terrible outcomes for her fellow survivor. Nea was the first to scoff at the statement while she glared daggers into the flames.

"She's probably off crying in the woods or something. She didn't do much in the trial we were in against the Trapper," Nea sounded just as agitated as she looked and Bill spared her a quick glare. He wanted to say something but did not feel like arguing either so, he kept his mouth shut.

“You call healing your back after your dumb ass stunt nothing, Nea?” Trista's voice came from behind the woman that had spoken ill of her and the whole group of survivors stood to face her. She had to keep her smile back when seeing the shared looks of absolute terror on sixteen faces. Sixteen pairs of eyes were locked onto the group that stood in the treeline behind her.

"W-Why are th-they here?" Dwight was a nervous wreck seeing so many killers at one just staring at them. Pig, Hillbilly, Wraith, Nightmare, Huntress, Shape, and Trapper all stood there in a line with their weapons at the ready. For that, just in case, moment. Laurie looked uneasy staring at the bogeyman that plagued her and Quentin seemed paler than usual as he locked eyes with Freddy. He damn near keeled over when the Nightmare grinned wickedly and winked at him.

“They're my escorts,” Trista stated in a matter-of-fact tone and she had to keep her laughter from spilling out when everyone turned their attention toward her.

"What do you mean by escorts?" Jake narrowed his eyes, not enjoying the cryptic answers so far. He crossed his arms, feeling his blood beginning to boil as the newest member of the trails went toward her tent. The silence between them all was deafening and the presence of several killers was not at all easing tensions. When Trista re-emerged from her tent with the satchel she arrived with full to bursting, the survivors waited with more silence for the answers they wanted.

"Here's the short and sweet of it. You all have gained a sense of invincibility since my arrival and things have become a little too one-sided for the Entity's liking. So, it's time to level the playing fields again. With that, I'm no longer going to be in the trials as a survivor. I'm not going to be going on as a killer either," Trista did not give much detail in her explanation since she did not have all the little details. It still got across loud and clear to them all and she braced herself for the oncoming harsh words.

“You're joking right?” Feng Min did not like what she was hearing at all and by the looks of the other survivors, none of them were too pleased about it either.

“I'm not joking.”

“How is that leveling the field?! You're going to be getting a free pass while the rest of us have to keep playing these twisted games?!” Fend was vehemently voicing her agitation while getting closer to Trista. Her eyes looked beyond angry and it seemed she was taking over as the voice of the survivors for now.

"Did you suck off the Entity after your trial? Maybe you fucked one of them? May have been all of them! Or did you do all of the above to get handed the golden ticket, you freak!?"

“Watch your mouth, Feng Min,” Trista sneered and her knuckles turned white as she gripped the strap of her satchel tightly. It was taking every ounce of her control not to haul off and punch the tiny Asian right in the mouth.

“Or what? You going to call in your new dogs to shut me up?” Feng had gone too far and she knew she had pushed it when her vision was robbed by a blinding light. Feng had seen the woman use her _**Hand of Light**_ perk many times on the killers but, never did she think Trista would turn it on a survivor.

When the two were rendered useless, that had been the green light for the other survivors to step in. Feng was pulled away from Trista who in turn was moved away from the campfire by Bill. The veteran had been one of the few that did not allow the woman to heal him. He and the other selective had seen what it cost her and refused to use her healing perk but, they were outnumbered when it came to what was said around the campfire. Trista shook her head as she got her vision back and she looked up at the old man that held onto her shoulders.

"Ya tried warnin' them that somethin' like this was bound to happen. It's their own damn fault they didn't believe ya, kiddo." Bill let go of her shoulders before he pat her head gently. He understood that she really was not being given much of a choice. He felt even less than thrilled she was going to be staying with all of the bloodthirsty beasts that hunted them.

“Yeah, but I don't blame them for being pissed off about it.” Trista chuckled softly before she turned her attention back to Feng. Seeing the intense glares she was getting made her blood freeze. This was about to go more south real quickly, she just knew it.

"Ya got yer shit, ya freak, now fuckin' leave!" David cracked his knuckles, about ready to make her leave by force. He was just about done with how sour the night of celebrations had turned and he wanted both her and the killers at the treeline to go away. As if to make good on his nonverbal threat, he and a few of the more vocal of the group stepped toward her. That had been a huge mistake.

The ground sizzled and crackled with electricity, which had been the survivor's only warning of what was to happen. Screams rang out in the night as their minds were wracked with pain from the _**Shock Therapy. **_The Doctor was in and was none too pleased with how the farewells were going. Trista had been the only one not hit by the electrical current and she turned toward the forest behind her. The tall physician was standing now between Even and Michael and to say he was pissed was most certainly an understatement. When his eyes met hers, Trista instantly tensed up.

“You have your belongings and have said your goodbyes. It's time to go,” he spoke calmly as he looked from the Witch to the group of survivors he got to torment in the trials. A bubble of laughter tried escaping from his chest seeing the looks of shock and bewilderment. No doubt, they were confused that he could speak, let alone was willing to around them. They really were a foolish lot. Trista could only nod toward the Doctor before she looked at Bill with a soft smile. She pat his shoulder and gave him a wink after seeing the look of sorrow cross his eyes.

“Good luck and try to whip these kids back into shape. The trials are only going to get rougher from now on,” she spoke gently before glancing toward the others. Some of the survivors looked saddened by the fact they were losing one of their own while some were looking pretty livid. She gave Bill another nod before she walked towards the killers. The solidarity of the situation finally seemed to click and it hit Nea instantly.

"Hold on!" Nea spoke out and seeing Trista glance over her shoulder that the Doctor had grabbed onto, the streetwise girl held up her index finger before rushing over to her tent. She came rushing out seconds later holding a bag of her own, the rattle from the cans of spray paint made the only sound as she approached cautiously. She held the backpack out toward Trista with a small blush on her cheeks.

"Nea, I can't take these! You eared them from the trials!" Trista had a small blush on her face but could not argue when Nea pressed the backpack against her chest. She carefully wrapped her arms around it like it contained nothing but breakables within.

"It's cool. I can earn them again the right way. Just make me one of those star paintings, You know, the ones you told us about. It can be a trade thing," Nea cleared her throat and kept her guard up seeing the killers had all moved closer to Trista.

“You've got a deal. Thanks, Nea.” Trista hugged the bag full of spray paint a little closer with a smile and even let out a chuckle when Nea messed her hair up a bit. Her eyes widened to see Kate stepping up next to Nea but she did not seem too scared. She was guarded but still gentle too.

“Wish things could've been different for you, sugar. Wasn't yer fault what you were given by that monster.” Kate gave Trista a gentle smile but that smiled faded when she looked at the beings that chased them relentlessly. She took in a deep breath to get her courage up again, ready to speak her minds before they leave.

“Not my place to ask, not expecting y'all to answer either. Just please treat 'er better while she's there than what we did. Trista's got a good hear.”

“Believe me. We know,” Amanda spoke up and even gently took Trista by the hand to lead her away. The other survivors never eased when the killers and the former survivor were long gone. Their spirit of celebration had been replaced by feelings of dreaded realization and understanding.

They were about to be truly fucked from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Поступай осторожно, маленькая ведьма." ---- "Tread carefully, little Witch."


	3. Chapter 3

Trista was not sure if walking back to the manor in silence was comfortable or driving her mad. Either way, the Doctor walking right behind her was unsettling. Huntress had already informed her that he was less than pleased to have her around and yet, his earlier intervention was causing her some confusion. He had prevented a huge fight and a possible blood bath between her and the survivors. It was making her wrack her brain to try and figure out why he would do it. Thinking it was better to ask, she spared a glance over her shoulder to look at the man and the question froze in her throat from the surprise she got. Herman had, at some point, unhooked the parts of his head contraption that held his mouth and eyes open. She had to admit he had a pretty handsome face but, he looked so tired.

She glanced over to the others that wore masks and was a little more shocked to see that Ana, Amanda, and Evan had all removed their masks. Every single one of them looked exhausted and she knew the feeling all too well. Years upon years of doing the same dance on an endless loop would tire anyone. They were prisoners too and anyone would be marked as a fool to think the killers had it easier than the survivors. Trista nervously chewed her bottom lip knowing that there were still several more kills she had yet to see. Her nerves and emotions were already full shot. A small squeak was the only sound she managed to get out before she felt the ground make contact with her back.

"If this were a trial, I'd already been eating your liver!" The Hag had come running out of the manor and had pounced the woman to the ground. When the two of them made eye contact, the Hag tilted her head with confusion to see such numbness in Trista's eyes.

“That was a very rude way to greet the poor girl,” the soft yet stern voice of the Nurse sounded from the porch.

“I got excited!” The Hag quickly defended herself from the scolding as she removed herself from the survivor's torso. She even helped brush off the dirt from the woman's clothing after Herman had helped her to her feet. The tiny killer was even nice enough to hand her back the bag of spray paints that had fallen too.

“So long as my liver gets to stay in my body, I don't mind the tackle greeting.” Trista kept the gentle smile on her face and eve had to keep her laughter to a giggle with what transpired before her. As the Nurse was floating her way toward them, the Huntress easily plucked the Hag off the ground to let her sit on her shoulders. The reactionary hiss to being picked up was what elicited Trista's laugh and she thought it endearing that Hag calmed down so quickly. The gentle nuzzling between the two was just too damn adorable in Trista's eyes.

"She's very eager to pick your brain on your knowledge of magic. Now, I believe in proper introductions even if you do know our names already. I'm Sally and that is Lisa," the Nurse spoke rather kindly as she held her hand toward the ebony-haired woman. Trista had been so used to seeing Sally with her head covered in a burlap sack that seeing long red hair and an entirely sweet porcelain face was a little surprising.

“My name is Trista, and I look forward to being able to pick her brain too,” she spoke gently as she took the offered hand. She marveled at how cool to the touch Sally was or how warm her faint smile came off as. That smile was gone the second she turned her attention toward her fellow killers.

“You lot look more solemn than usual. Did something happen?”

"You could say that doll," Freddy chuckled out before he draped his arms over Trista's shoulders.

“Got a feeling we weren't the stuff of nightmares for this one. The other survivors were pretty brutal bastards.”

"They weren't all bad on a good night. I don't think myself as completely innocent at times either," Trista kept her words modest and was trying to still keep the tempers from flaring more than they already had. She knew she was defending the others even if she did not have to. She let out a small grunt when Freddy abruptly placed his hat on her head. Her cheeks darkened with a blush when he made sure that her eyes got covered in a teasing manner.

"You're gold, kid. No wonder you're neutral. You'd make a shitty killer with that outlook." Freddy grinned when Trista lifted the fedora to glare at him but, he saw it in her eyes. She knew his words were true. He gave her a wink as he removed his arm from around her shoulder and took his hat back when she had offered it to him.

The flash of lightning made Trista stiffen a moment before she titled her head back to look at the sky. She could smell the promise of heavy rains and by another flash, a relentless storm was on the way. With her eyes on the skies, she had not been aware that her company dwindled to just Trapper. Everyone else had already made their way inside while she was more content in staying out. That is until she felt a sturdy tap on her shoulder that got her attention. She looked to see Evan staring at her with an almost impatient expression. Her eyes widened slightly at being able to get a good look at his face. Without his mask, she could see his strong jaw, his dark brown eyes, and the scar that started under his right eye traveling down over his lips before it tapered off at the left side of his chin.

“Need to check your bandages,” Evan spoke up as he pointed toward the door of the manor.

"By your lead then, sir," Trista gave a small bow as she teased him. A full-on grin plastered her face as she heard him let out a deep chuckle. When she straightened herself to follow him, she felt herself even more at ease now than she had ever been since her abduction. He somehow now made her feel comfortable rather than frightened. No words needed to be exchanged between them as she kept pace behind him. Her eyes took in as much of what she had yet to see of the manor. How deep all of the colors of the carpets and wood were. How the gas lamps and candelabras provided just enough lighting. It seemed old and very expensive in taste to her.

“A twisted replica of my family home,” Evan spoke over his shoulder having caught how Trista was looking at everything. The shocked look on her face made him turn his attention forward as he continued to lead her down the hall.

"It's still gorgeous in a sense. I never would have dreamed of setting foot in a mansion like this." Which was nothing but truth coming from her. There was still that thought in her mind though they all had a room, they all had their solitary dwellings to retreat to when they needed. When he had paused at one of the doors it piqued her interest quite a bit. She tilted her head a moment in confusion when he nodded toward it before she reached out and grasped the handle. Slowly, the door creaked open and what greeted her from within made her heart pain with longing. The inside had been replicated to be just like her room she had been forced to leave behind. The solitary haven she had retreated to many times when she needed.

Without a word she walked in and deposited both her gifted bag and the satchel, she packed onto the chair that sat in front of her desk. Her fingers gently glided over the digital art tablet while she relished in the memories of long drawing nights. The hand that came to sit on her shoulder brought her back to reality. It also brought back the exhaustion in her body from all the wounds she had taken on. She turned her head to look at the Trapper and noticed he was still very much there and now the door to the room was closed. Her eyes locked onto his for a moment but the gaze did not last long. He looked away as he sat his mask on her desk and placed his cleaver against it before he pointed toward her bandaged side.

“Need to see if the stitching has come undone. You'll be able to shower after if you want,” Evan kept his tone leveled and gave no real reaction to her eyes widening. He even bit back the smirk that threatened to slip in seeing her cheeks tint slightly with a blush.

"Since there is a shower being promised, I'll do just about anything right now," Trista blurted out and a smile came to her lips when she heard him chuckle. The small smile that she had been able to get out of him made her heart thump hard in her chest. She turned herself around, not wanting him to see her full blush and she did want that shower. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and swiftly removed it, letting it drape over the back of the chair. That act brought back the stitching of her back wound and they were itching something fierce now. She did keep herself still and her heartbeat in check when Evan began peeking the bandage back but, the slight humming sound he let out confused her. She turned her head slightly so she could look at him over her shoulder. The look on his face puzzled her even more.

“The Entity has finally healed you.”

“Took him long enough,” she retorted out, earning herself another chuckle from Evan.

"Got to remove your stitches," he finished his thoughts as he removed the bandages completely from her back. His eyes scanned her desk and found a pair of scissors inside the pen holder, which he retrieved. He had to quickly grab a hold of her to keep her from toppling over and that was when he saw it. She had a look of exhaustion on her face and looked as she would pass out on her feet at any moment. He felt a pull of a sympathetic smile grace his lips knowing the years she had been there were catching up to her. She no longer had to run for her life or work on generators for the amusement of their merciless deity. In a way, he envied her in the sense she had got a sort of freedom. Yet, in that same token, he felt pity for her since she would be working alongside the cruel being that kept them all trapped.

Evan coaxed her toward her bed and silently ordered her to lay on her stomach. The stitches had to be removed and he would see that she got that promised shower before she would get rest. As she lay down, he took note that there was something still in the way of his work. He looked to her face to find her glancing right back at him with evident hesitation in her eyes. She knew exactly what he needed from her yet, she was still uneasy with being so bared to him. After a long stretch of silence, she reached her hands back to unclasp her strapless bra for him. Once she had moved her hands to rest under her head, Evan began the process of snipping and removing the thread. There would be no scars left of the wounds she had taken but, his eyes did trail the scar that went the length of her spine. A smirk played on his lips knowing what made the mark. That scar had been the result of their first trial together. It had been her very first trial as the newest survivor.

“You were such an asshole for that one,” Trista's voice cut through the silence and she even chuckled knowing what had his full focus.

“How so?” He grumbled out the question as his fingers worked the threads out. He had remembered she had no idea of the rules yet and he found her boldly walking around the arena. He stalked her and managed to corner her, only to see a look of relief wash over her features. That look alone had made him stay his blade out of curiosity. When she quickly latched onto him in a hug it had thrown his world for a loop. Never before had a survivor embraced him upon first meeting him and he had regretted slicing down her back as his first introduction.

“You know exactly how so,” Trista retorted out. She remembered just as vividly as he did on the first trial and her first lost round. A squeaky gasp escaped her as she was quickly flipped onto her back. Their proximity became very clear to her as she felt the heat from his body and his breath as it fanned over her face. She kept her eyes on his and only narrowed them in a glare when she caught the smirk he had.

"You needed to learn quickly. The hug was appreciated though," Evan gave her that little bit of insight to his gratitude back then and watched the glare soften with her confusion. In mere seconds it became apparent that his words were a go signal for her. She wrapped her arms behind his neck and embraced him in another hug. He went rigid when she pressed against him. He was highly away that her top half was completely bare with how much she had moved and she felt significantly cooler compared to him.

“Then, I can give you a proper hug without you having to teach me a lesson,” Trista whispered gently next to his ear. She was relishing blissfully with how warm he was. A small gasp escaped from her as she felt him shift the both of them easily into a new position. He now sat on the edge of the bed while she was straddling his lap. His arms engulfed around her and he was sure to be gentle so that none of the protruding metal on his arms and shoulder would harm her.

“I wouldn't call you half nude as being proper,” Evan teased her and even grinned when she laughed at what he said. When he felt her pull back, he tightened his arms just enough to get her to stop before he carefully hid his face against the side of her neck. He had not wanted the embrace to end just yet but the tension in her body did not go unnoticed by him. He could feel the pulse at her throat pumping hard and fast. Her heart was racing in her veins and he felt it beating against his chest. The source of her blood flow pounded against her rib cage as it would if he were chasing her in a trial. Figuring it was because of fear and nothing more, he loosened his grip and brought his arms down so his hands could rest on her hips. He brought his face from her neck as she pulled back slightly but, once their eyes met his heart slammed with a hard beat in his chest.

She was smiling at him. She was genuinely smiling and the look in her eyes said that she was not afraid. She had not been frightened at all by him prolonging the embrace between them. The stitches on her side, however, were beginning to itch unbearably and she was ready to be rid of them. Trista broke the eye contact first as she retrieved the discarded scissor from off the bed. Her fingers were promptly busied with snipping and pulling at the threads while she felt the Trapper's fingers gently tracing the scar on her spine. A smirk replaced her smile and she bit back every shivered that threatened to release.

“Admiring your handiwork?” Trista asked coyly as she pulled the last of the thread that the Shape had stitched on her side. She set the thread down along with the scissors next to them before looking at Evan again. She realized then that he had been staring at her. His stare was not on her face but rather, low toward her chest.

"He would have been strong. Just like you," Evan looked up from the tattoo as he spoke to see her eyes. He saw the look of shock instantly go to her hazel pools with his words. The shock ebbed away slowly and rage was beginning to build. Something told him it was not directed at him as she removed herself from his lap. He watched as she put her shirt back on but, what completely got his attention was the bow she retrieved from off the top of the bookshelf next to her desk. She had even swiftly plucked a single arrow from the quiver that sat next to the bookshelf. He acted quickly as she went out the door and he put his mask on once more. With his cleaver in his hand, he followed after her. He knew she was going to try to confront the Entity and that had proven to never be a smart idea for anyone to do. He had only paused in his thundering steps when she spun around and looked right at him. Her rage was almost palpable in the air as the storm outside continued.

“How did you know? I've been very careful not telling anyone of my life outside of this hell. Not even the survivors know. So, how did you fucking know?!” She was seething and the scene she was creating caught the attention of the others that were in the living room. The Cannibal, who had been absent until the storm, walked into the foyer and stared at the woman. She looked to him and watched as his eyes instantly got the look of a guilt riddled child. Her rage boiled more.

"Your light trick isn't as one-sided as you thought," Amanda's voice caught Trista's attention and those seething eyes were now on her. She had her pig mask back on and was leaning against the side frame of the wall with her arms crossed. Michael was staring at them from within the common room, standing at his favored spot in front of the window. The Wraith had descended the stairs to stand next to Evan, his eyes locked on Trista.

“When we are blinded by flashlights, it's painful. It's an almost white glimpse of our retinas bordered with throbbing blood vessels. When you blind us, we see memories that are not our own. It plays like a movie in our vision,” Philip explained the best he could. Just by her body language alone said he explained it enough.

“Son of a bitch!” Trista turned quickly and was out the front door before any of them could make a move to stop her. They followed her out as fast as they could and watched from the massive porch what she was going to do. They watched as she marched out into the downpour and stood out in the opening before the forest began. None of them had ever been able to strike or harm the Entity and believe her actions were going to be just as fruitless. They were about to be proven wrong.

Trista had been able to spot within the storm clouds the slight pink aura that was trying to keep hidden by the storm. That was where she aimed her arrow and fired it with every ounce of rage and conviction she had. She knew she only needed the one shot and a sneer appeared on her features as an animalistic howl echoed over the din of the storm. Her victory, as small as it was, had been short-lived. The ground rumbling beneath her feet was the only warning she had before it was split apart by sharp tendrils. The Entity was pissed that she had tried to defy it and she could feel that anger being poured into her as the limbs wrapped around her tightly. The feeling was most certainly mutual and before she could scream at the monster, it wrapped a claw around her throat as it lifted her high above the ground. The sounds of various growls and dull thuds of something got her attention. She looked to see the killers that had been watching her were trying to strike the tree that held her hostage.

_“You aim to save her from me? I own all of you!”_ The growled voice of the Entity echoed from the skies and before she could warn them, the claw around her throat tightened more. Tendrils shot from the base of the stalk that held her and stayed the ones that were striking it. Michael and Evan were promptly wrapped in cocoons that kept only their heads uncovered. Philip and Amanda were both stayed by limbs that held them in chokeholds while Bubba had his hands and legs seized; the chainsaw completely entangled. The others she had met were on the porch only to be blocked by the Entity much like in the trials when they tried to go through the exit gates. The barriers had even formed along the tree line of the forest where the survivors stood. They had come to investigate what was going on and the ones that had been kinder to her were trying to get to her in vain.

“My hand of light perk. What all did it reveal that I wasn't willing to?!" Trista growled out the question, still angered that her memories had been shared without her knowledge. The sinister chuckle that echoed only served to fuel her anger more and she tried to struggle against the limbs that held her.

_"You thought such abilities were merely one-sided? Would you have stopped yourself from using it? Little Witch, even you should have known that everything comes at a price. Your arrogance in striking me will not go unpunished!"_ Trista was not sure what kind of punishment the creature had in mind until it had pressed the tip of a claw to the middle of her forehead. A blood-curdling scream ripped from her throat as the memories flooded her. Every painful and traumatic experience plagued her sights like a movie while her body was forced to relive all of the physical imprints. The bow fell to the ground feet below her and she silently pleaded for it all to stop. It was only when she heard more screams and groans of discomfort that she began to beg the Entity to release them all. The claw retracted from her forehead and the beast released its hold on the killers. The barriers that kept them all at bay vanished but, the Entity still kept a hold of Trista high above the ground.

_"You have no choice but to assist me and do as I say. Just as they have no choice but to play my games. Do not repeat this act or it will be far worse than visiting your past. The punishment will not be shared next time either." _

The storm above grew more violent as the tree that held the woman simply vanished into thin air. A small gasp managed to escape as she made her rapid descent toward the ground. She was bracing for the impact knowing the Entity was not going to just let her die from the fall. That did not mean she was going to be safe from the pain of it when she met the earth below.


	4. Chapter 4

Bill had been the first to recover from the Entity's punishment and he was now well aware of the scene around him. The killers were trying to shake off the residual effects and the survivors were doing their best to recover too. Trista was still very much falling and Bill needed to act fast before she met with a fate worse than death. Not giving a damn he would be closer to the ones that hunted them in the trials, he made the mad dash to where the woman was going to land. He caught her in his arms and braced himself back enough to keep both of them from landing in the mud. Bill looked to see Trista's eyes were shut tight and her hands were clenched to her chest. She had yet to realize she had been caught safely.

“Are you alright, kid?”

“I'm not a kid!” Trista blurted out of reflex to hear Bill's voice and the usual nickname he used for the younger survivors. Her eyes shot open while she gasped when it finally dawned on her that her fall had been broken. She stared at him blankly and was for once highly grateful for the rain. It was masking the tears she was shedding from the emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

"Yeah, you're alright," he chuckled out and carefully set her back on her feet. He did not quite let her stand on her own since she was shaking like a newborn deer. That was when he decided to take in all of her injuries. What bits of her skin had been touched by the Entity were now blackened with a burned bruise but, it was her eyes that unsettled him.

“What?” Trista had seen the troubled look come across Bill's features and it seemed he was not able to put it into words what was bothering him. Instead, he looked to Michael who was standing closer now. He had just been staring at them, watching them.

"Yer knife, Shape. She can use it as a mirror," Bill spoke calmly, even if he was a bit leery at being so close to so many killers at once. He was aware, though, that the Entity would not let any of them try to kill each other outside of the trials. They had all tried to in some form or fashion, Bill admittedly included himself on that, and the results were less than pleasant for those involved. It was never desired to be repeated either.

The silence in the air seemed thick between the group. No one moved or even spoke as the rain continued to soak them. On a flash of lightning, Michael tightened his grip on his weapon. When the thunder rolled above, he moved closer to the two he was staring down. Trista watched as he tilted his head to the side and the clench of his unoccupied fist made it clear. He did not like was he saw. He moved his knife to where she could see her face and her eyes widened upon seeing her reflection.

"What the flying fuck?!" She cursed out seeing the whites of her eyes were black and her once hazel irises were now the same fiery orange coloring the Entity had on its limbs. She reached to grab the knife so she could get a closer look but, Michael was quick to grab her wrists in one hand to stop her. The knife was flipped to where the cutting edge faced up before he released her wrists. His way of telling her she could grab the knife now. That action was not lost on Bill. The Shape was unwilling to allow Trista to get hurt and it would have made the old man smirk if he was not focused on keeping the woman steady. He looked to her as she let out a growl of frustration.

“It doesn't look that bad, Trista,” he smirked them as he tried to console her. A brow raised when instead of looking at him or answering him, she looked up toward the sky.

“Turn them back! Take away your marks and I'll do whatever the hell you want, you sick fuck!” Trista yelled as loud as she could to the storm above her. She could feel that Bill wanted to smack her on the backside of her head for her reckless abandon. It honestly surprised her that he refrained.

"You've angered the Entity enough for one night, child," Sally chided as she began to approach but, she paused abruptly as the marks started to vanish. The Nurse tilted her head in awe of what she was seeing and felt herself smile a Trista looked at her reflection in the knife again. Everything had been undone as demanded but, it did not seem as if things were done yet. Sally's attention was pulled toward the forest as the survivors ventured closer toward Bill and Trista. She moved closer to her fellow killers and watched with bated breath as Michael stepped away as well. Trista was still agitated to hell but it was not about the markings now.

“So, now you all know everything. Why I never shared a lot of my stories. You can save the big pity party and go back to the campfire where you're safer.” She hated the expressions some of them were wearing. The looks of regret and guilt. The sounds of their screams and groans mingling with hers echoed in her mind. She felt raw. Exposed. Her loathing toward the Entity only grew more. All of them, killers and survivors, now knew her past pains and horrors. It was bad enough that her blinding perk gave glimpses but, this. This was too much and the more she dwelt on it, the more the desire to run away from them all began to fill her. Kate had watched the anger change to fear in Trista's eyes and that was when she acted. She quickly went to Trista and grabbed her into a fierce hug. She was determined to calm the woman and give Bill a moment of reprieve too.

"You're one hell of a woman, Trista. You've got a heart of gold brighter than the sun and haven't let it burn out, even with everything that's happened to you," Kate gently whispered and she smiled feeling Trista reach up to grip the tops of her shoulders. She kissed the side of her head in a comfort motion, letting her know in her own way that it was alright to feel the way she was feeling. Kate only looked up when she felt something tap against her side and her eyes widened. The Clown was standing right there next to them holding one of his bottles. She tensed up, unsure of what to do and the bodily reaction go Trista's attention. The Witch looked up and the second her eyes were revealed, the Clown turned his face. Everyone now had an understanding as to why with the memories they had been shown and Kate let a smile grace her lips at the Clown's actions.

"Hawk, if you keep giving me your alcohol you're going to run out," Trista mumbled before she took a quick swig from the bottle. She put the cork back in the hole to seal it and right as she was about to hand it back, her eyes widened in surprise. He was just going to walk away. Not even thinking twice about it, she moved from Kate's arms and grabbed the gloved hand that was closest in reach. A bad move on her part since she was still weakened from her little spat with the Entity. She found herself being held again but it was now the Clown that helped her keep her footing.

“Damn it, girly. I'm tryin' to make it easier on ya. I could always ask the Entity for more booze,” he spoke in a gruff tone and he made sure to look away from Trista as she tried looking up at him. She took in a slow steady breath to gather her courage before putting on an angry facade.

“Jeffrey Hawk, look at me while you talk or I swear I'll use your real name,” she grumbled out and felt the fingers on her shoulder tense for a second. When he turned his face toward her, she forced the glare she had to stay. She reached up and flicked her finger to hit the middle of his forehead. The gasps from the survivors and the chuckles from some of the killers broke her act. She grinned at him smugly.

“What was that for?” He glared at her. He was sure his face spoke volumes on how displeased he felt with her actions.

"Thank you, Hawk. I know you're trying to help with my coulrophobia but, I promise you're fine. I've been in enough trials against you that I'm over-exposed. Not cured but you I'm used to." She smiled softly and popped open the bottle one more time to take another swig before she offered it back to him. Her smile widened more as he took the alcohol back with a deep chuckle. It was genuine and not the one he used during the trails to instill fear.

“Trista, how did you hurt it? How did you hurt the Entity?” Quentin's voice lacked that certain exhaustion it usually held. He blamed the abrupt rumble of the lands and the sudden rush to investigate for his sudden alertness.

“It was the will she put behind it, boy. The will of a witch is strong and not a damn thing was going to break hers,” the Hag hissed out an answer and it made Trista chuckled out softly.

“That's one way of putting it. I was pretty pissed off and it wasn't until after I released the arrow that I thought it wouldn't work,” Trista admitted out modestly as she gently scratched at her cheek. She was starting to feel all the exhaustion trying to seep into her. It felt like she ran through hundreds of trials with no reprieve and she so desperately wanted to rest.

“You've got guts. I'll give ya that,” David praised in the best way he could but even Trista could see it on his face. She could see it plain as day on all of their faces. They had no idea what was supposed to happen next. Things had changed and a deep dread settled in her as she realized she had been the catalyst.

"Look, I need to get some rest. I'm barely standing as it is so, you all come back in the daylight and we can have a little pow-wow out here. See if we can't figure out what is going to happen." She needed to recollect herself again. She still felt very raw and exposed at the moment. It was all too soon to even try to help any of them understand her new role, let alone answer questions of her past.

“When you say we, d-do you mean them too?” Dwight stuttered a moment but Trista understood perfectly well what he was asking. She looked at the nervous man and held every bit of patience she always had for him.

"Yes, Dwight. Them too. Outside of the trials, it's frowned upon to engage in blood baths, remember?" She smiled gently, trying to ease the man's nerves but the look Feng had cause Trista to glare a little.

“That didn't stop that rude shock we got earlier,” Feng spoke loudly with sass and even threw a glare toward the Doctor.

"He was breaking up our little fight. Now, drop the attitude. Daylight. Go." Trista softened her glare, much too tired to argue anymore. She watched the survivors slowly vanish into the treeline. It was only when she was certain they were gone that she felt her muscles begin to shake. She had pushed it too far with trying to stay conscious in front of them all. A small gasp escaped her as she felt herself being lifted up bridal style. Her vision swam but she knew it was the Clown that held her. The smell of cigar smoke and alcohol filled her nose and as pungent as it was, it was somewhat relaxing her mind.

“Easy, girly. Just a sec,” Hawk muttered as he turned toward the Trapper. Evan had made it pretty clear to all of them by his actions that he aimed to be her guardian of sorts. So, the Clown handed the Witch over to him, mindful that neither of them jostled her too much. He even made sure to retrieve her bow that lay forgotten in the mud.

“Was promised a shower,” Trista muttered as she rested her head against Evan's chest. The steady beat of his heart started quickly lulling her to sleep.

"You need to rest more than a shower." Evan could see just how tired she really was. The gentle clicking of a tongue caught his attention and he looked over toward Amanda. She had her arms crossed and Sally was next to her looking equally displeased, even with the bag over her head.

“If the sweet girl wishes to be clean, then Amanda and I will bathe her. It will help her sleep more soundly,” the Nurse had used her medical voice and even glanced over toward Herman for confirmation. She was pleased when the Doctor gave a not to agree with what she had said.

“Come on, big guy. You get her in the tub and we'll do the rest,” Amanda clapped her hands as a signal to be quick with her demand. It earned her a growl from the Trapper that only served to make her grin beneath her mask.

* * *

Trista regained her consciousness when she was carefully placed into the tub. She let out a moan of satisfaction as the warm water eased her achy muscles. She cracked her eyes open enough to see the massive bathroom she was in and that the Trapper had been the one to put her in the bathtub. She looked over to Amanda and Sally who were both mask-less and waiting to bathe her. The feel of Evan about to pull away woke her up more. She quickly grabbed his hand to keep him from leaving entirely and a blush peppered her cheeks hearing the two females chuckle.

“Called it,” Amada chimed and merely shrugged when Evan glared at her.

"Can't be helped. You've grown attached to our dear Trappy now, haven't you?" Sally smiled softly and her eyes even softened as the woman she questioned only nodded her head meekly in response.

“I hate that nickname, Sally.”

“My apologies, Evan.” The Nurse moved closer to the tub and lightly tapped his mask to silently suggest he remove it.

“Plan still stands regardless. Sally is going to keep you above the water and I'm going to get you squeaky clean.” Amanda knelt by the unoccupied side of the tube and sat out the various soaps and hair products she demanded from the Entity. She knew she was a killer but even so, she could not stand by feeling grimy and smelly for too long.

"Relax child, let us do the work," Sally spoke softly and held up her hands to allow the telekinetic powers to flow through her fingers. A smile played on her lips feeling the woman tense her body in resistance for a moment before she relaxed into the hold. She gave a nod to Amanda as a signal that it was okay to start her part.

"The Pig was very gentle in getting Trista clean. She made sure every bit of dirt and dried blood was washed away and for Trista, it felt blissful. As Amanda ran her fingers through the Witch's dark tresses, she could not help but let what happened outside play like a movie on repeat in her mind. All of the memories and pain that came with the connection the Entity had made. The screams that came from Trista were haunting to Amanda. Screams she took no joy or pleasure in and she was sure the others felt the same. It had boggled her mind why the Entity found this particular survivor to be different. She was breaking from the mold. The rules were being changed slightly and all because of her. There was another thing that baffled Amanda's mind more and, as she started the rinsing process, she decided she needed answers.

"Trista, why were you begging for us to be spared? The survivors I can understand but, us?" Amanda carefully applied the conditioner as her mind mulled over her own questions. She had been used to the disdain that came with being a killer but to have someone begging for even the evilest not to be tortured by the Entity? She pulled away to let the conditioner set a moment and her eyes widened to see the look on Trista's face. Such compassion and gentleness were in those golden-green eyes that it damn near answered everything without a word.

“Don't deserve that hell. No one does. Freddy included,” Trista answered softly before she looked to Evan, who had gripped her hand a little tighter. She closed her eyes a moment to fight back the tears again. She did not want to let them see how much it was still haunting her.

“You most certainly did not deserve it either,” Sally added in gently and her eyes widened slightly when Trista shook her head in response.

“I may not have deserved it but everything molded me to who I am.”

"Her cross to bear," Ana's voice coming from the bathroom doorway got all of their attention. With all eyes on her, she gave a small smile before making her way over to the same side of the bathtub that Evan was knelt at. She took a seat on the floor close to the head of the tub and watched as Amanda began rinsing out the conditioner.

"What is that?" Evan tapped the glass that Ana was holding in her hand. The purple liquid the container was filled with looked odd to him. Ana lifted the glass up a bit as she thought of how best to explain it.

“Medicine. Freddy said it would help her sleep with no dreams and Hawk mixed it up with juice. No alcohol.” That last bit made some brows raise.

"Where did they get the medicine?" Sally had a feeling it was not something the Entity would have given so quickly tonight. Not after the full blatant display of disobedience, they had given. She pursed her lips in a hard line when Ana simply shrugged as an answer. The Nurse kept a closer watch as Amanda finished up the bathing. That was as good of an okay they were going to get to try and give to the drink to the Witch. Trista shakily tried to grab the glass that was seemingly being offered to her but, Ana moved it away out of her reach while shaking her head. Instead of trying to grab it a second time, she waited until the rim was pressed to her lips to take a sip. Ana had seemed to be prepared and moved the glass away as the woman coughed a few times.

“That's disgusting!” Trista stuck her tongue out and screwed her facial features into a look of pure displeasure to go with it. Her reaction to the medicine earned her a small chuckle from both Evan and Ana before the rim was placed to her lips again.

“Drink faster,” the Huntress suggested in a soft tone. She was pleased that Trista did quickly down the medicine and even bit back the disgust as best she could. When Amanda came in with two towels, Ana gently put the glass down beside the tub. She then reached over and pulled the plug to drain the water before she gave the Nurse a nod. As the telekinetic energy that held Trista up faded, the Huntress easily picked the woman up from the tub. Ana kept her upright as Amanda wrapped the first towel around Trista's body before using the second to towel dry her ebony locks. It was only when Amanda was done and Ana was about to change her holding on the Witch that Evan stepped in.

“I've got her. You girls have done enough,” he spoke in his usual gruff tone but the look on his mask-less face told the women he was being sincere and gentle. The Huntress moved aside enough that the Trapper was able to scoop the Witch up into his arms carefully.

"Thank you," Trista looked to the three and offered a gentle smile in seeing their shocked looks. Sally gave a nod of her head and watched Evan carry Trista out of the bathroom before letting out a small chuckle of amusement. When the other two looked at her in confusion, she tilted her head slightly to the side and her smile grew.

"Her manners are heartwarming and it would seem the Witch is gaining an attachment of her own from Evan."

“Again. Called it,” Amanda teased as they too exited the bathroom. The three ladies headed to convene in the common room where they found Philip and Max lounging on the sofa while Michael stared out at the storm that continued to rage outside. Ana watched how quickly Max stood up from the couch, the unasked questions littering his eyes. She gently pat the top of his head to ease him before she headed to the kitchen. She still had an empty glass to deal with.

“Trista should be resting soon and Evan will most likely watch over her the entire time,” Sally eased the Hillbilly and was pleased when he sat back down on the couch again.

"Why did she say to come back at Daylight? We've never seen the sun since we've been here." The whole idea of meeting the survivors in the daytime perplexed the Wraith. It had even caused some of the other killers discomfort to know they would all be having a somewhat civil conversation with those they hunted. The whole idea was causing a lot of confusion to go with it.

"Maybe she made a deal with the devil after poking him in the eye?" Amanda shrugged, giving her best guess to it all before going over toward the window. She sat down on the small reading nook and gave Michael a small smile when he looked to her.

“We will have to wait and see how all of this is going to play out. There is still the unknown of how she will be helping the Entity,” Sally mused aloud and felt it odd that none of them were going into trials. The house was practically full.

“She might have wounded him more than we saw.” The Wraith had noticed too. There was a sense of unease in the air but the break was not entirely unwelcome.

"A break long enough for him to heal then." Sally sat on the arm of the sofa and smiled warmly as Philip wrapped an arm around her, his head pressing against her hip.

"I'm still wondering where Freddy got that medicine," Amanda leaned against the windowpane and raised a brow when Michael subtly pointed out toward the forest. Her eyes widened when it quickly clicked in her mind while the Shape put his hand back to his side.

“One of the survivors gave it to him?!”

"Yeah, he did. The sleepy bastard who showed up when I did. He's always got Hypnocil on him and I figured he still had some," Freddy came into the living room from the kitchen area with a smirk on his face.

“Hypnocil? I've never heard of such a drug.” The Nurse looked to the Nightmare and nearly felt immediate worry that she allowed Trista to take the medication.

“Long after your time, doll. It's something they made so people would stop having dreams and nightmares. It was a way to stop me from being able to get my damn victims,” the Nightmare nearly wanted to spit at that last sentence but he refrained and claimed a seat in the large recliner by the fireplace instead.

"And you willingly went and asked for some from that guy so Trista could have it?" Amanda was a bit skeptical and could not picture a decent scenario with that in mind.

“He was scared shit-less when I went to talk to him. Got a bit more relaxed when I said it was for the Witch. I hate that Hypno-shit but if it helps her then I don't give a fuck. It was Hawk's idea to mix it with one of his boozes that he hadn't made fully yet." Freddy shrugged not finding the whole thing to be such a big deal.

"Guess that makes you and Trista even then. She didn't want even you having to feel all that stuff from her memories," Amanda shivered out what she said. She could still conjure up some residual and when she saw Mikey clench his fist she gently touched it. She smiled when he grabbed onto her hand and her thumb gently stroked the tops of his knuckles to soothe him.

“Yeah, that was pretty fucked.” Freddy crossed his arms after pulling his fedora down over his eyes. He had a sour expression on his face as thunder shook the mansion.

“No trials and a storm to damper it all. We should enjoy the break to the best we can and you four had better not be planning on disturbing Trista while she rests,” Sally spoke out sternly and turned her head toward the foyer where the Legion were all trying to sneak towards the stairs undetected.

“Aw come on, Nursey!” Frank threw his arms up in the air out of frustration with being caught.

“We wanted to meet her!” Julie crossed her arms in a huff and turned her head away toward the side in disappointment.

“You can meet her when she's had her rest,” Sally kept her stern tone and did not give any hint of Herman being behind the four youths.

“It would be a quick hello. No harm done,” Joey tried his hand at convincing the Nurse to let them go bug the newest member of the house.

“We weren't even going to play pranks on her either. Honest,” Susie quietly added in with a little more sweetness to the plight. Her fingers all the while kept messing with the hem of her skirt. The hair on the backs of all of their necks stood up and cause all four of them to finally look behind them.

“Are you four having an issue with the Nurse's request?” Herman started the four youths down and let his electricity charge up just enough they could see it spark.

“Nope!” They all quickly replied before making their escape at his sides. Their destination now was in the direction of the billiard room. When they were out of sight, Herman let his charge sizzle to nothing before he chuckled in triumph. He made his way to the second recliner by the fireplace so he could sit down and read one of the books he retrieved from the study.

“Never a dull moment with Legion around,” Sally sighed out and leaned to where she could rest her cheek on top of Philip's head.

“Trista's going to love the hell out of them,” Amanda chuckled out as she turned her gaze to the rain outside. Her hand still keeping a gentle hold of Michael's and he even kept a hold of hers as well.


End file.
